Day 18: oh yeah, those emotional bumps
Got tired last night of typing while lying on my tummy and left out the second half of that thought process. It's not all sunshine and kittens here (tho it has been quite warm and sunny outside and I do have two kitties, one curled up between my feet right now, in fact.)
Being an invalid sucks. That's hardly news. Not being able to go out on a nice walk in this lovely weather is a bummer. Having to ask my mom for help with simple things like feeding the cats (lots of bending down to the ground which is still problematic) or driving me anywhere is difficult. I'm an independent adult, used to living alone. Having another independent adult used to living alone living in my home and sharing my space is tough on both of us. I've been pushing mom to go out a LOT. Church on sundays, bible study on wednesdays, swimming a couple days a week, outings for "active seniors" out by Summerplace, anything and everything we can find for her to do outside of the house now that I'm able to walk around with a cane or single crutch and refill my own glass of water and fetch my own snacks. The caregiving has of course taken an emotional toll on her and we ended up screaming at each other over a jar of beans. I won't go into the argument, it was stupid, as most arguments are, mostly a function of me not liking to talk about much and her thinking out loud, talking non stop all the time. She's forgetful and I hate repeating myself. Mothers and adult daughters sharing living space= emotional landmine. It took a full week for her to feel like she could leave the house even for church on sunday without feeling like she was "abandoning" me. That has helped considerably, for her to know a few people in Portland who aren't my friends.
I, of course, am currently relishing the abandonment of a church group outing this afternoon for the peace of a silent house. Just me and the kitties, like I'm used to. Got a new over-bed table delivered today that does require some assembly, but then I can use it for egg decorating while slouched on the comfy sofa instead of perched upright on a chair!
Also, having another surgery scheduled for next week is stressing me out. Completed a medical advance directive and reminded mom about my strong negative feelings re embalming and caskets (wasteful and environmentally destructive). Also reminded her three times yesterday that I am a registered organ donor and do want to donate anything and everything possible (full body first, if that's not an option, then bits and pieces.) She has this very strange (to me) belief that she needs to be buried intact for...reasons? It's religious, and very odd to me. I think her beliefs are stupid, but will honor them as much as it pains me to consider the waste of potentially life-saving organs getting pumped full of chemicals and buried in the ground where they will help no one.
Being slightly morbid the talk of dying doesn't bother me, but the thoughts of all the things that might go wrong with surgery on a major organ does bother me mightily. Having some minor insomnia, just trouble falling asleep, racing thoughts, that sort of thing. Entirely anxiety driven. Knowing that your life will be in someone else's (very capable) hands is...anxiety-inducing. So I try to visualize the surgery going perfectly, no bleeding, gallbladder being fine, closing up and all the wounds healing seamlessly and being out of that hospital next day. But also packing a bag with multiple changes of undies and soft comfy clothes (not knowing if i'll even be able to wear my own clothes!)
So yeah, I'm apprehensive. Again. Of another surgery. And more recovery. But fingers crossed and ~ma welcomed and here we go again!
Being an invalid sucks. That's hardly news. Not being able to go out on a nice walk in this lovely weather is a bummer. Having to ask my mom for help with simple things like feeding the cats (lots of bending down to the ground which is still problematic) or driving me anywhere is difficult. I'm an independent adult, used to living alone. Having another independent adult used to living alone living in my home and sharing my space is tough on both of us. I've been pushing mom to go out a LOT. Church on sundays, bible study on wednesdays, swimming a couple days a week, outings for "active seniors" out by Summerplace, anything and everything we can find for her to do outside of the house now that I'm able to walk around with a cane or single crutch and refill my own glass of water and fetch my own snacks. The caregiving has of course taken an emotional toll on her and we ended up screaming at each other over a jar of beans. I won't go into the argument, it was stupid, as most arguments are, mostly a function of me not liking to talk about much and her thinking out loud, talking non stop all the time. She's forgetful and I hate repeating myself. Mothers and adult daughters sharing living space= emotional landmine. It took a full week for her to feel like she could leave the house even for church on sunday without feeling like she was "abandoning" me. That has helped considerably, for her to know a few people in Portland who aren't my friends.
I, of course, am currently relishing the abandonment of a church group outing this afternoon for the peace of a silent house. Just me and the kitties, like I'm used to. Got a new over-bed table delivered today that does require some assembly, but then I can use it for egg decorating while slouched on the comfy sofa instead of perched upright on a chair!
Also, having another surgery scheduled for next week is stressing me out. Completed a medical advance directive and reminded mom about my strong negative feelings re embalming and caskets (wasteful and environmentally destructive). Also reminded her three times yesterday that I am a registered organ donor and do want to donate anything and everything possible (full body first, if that's not an option, then bits and pieces.) She has this very strange (to me) belief that she needs to be buried intact for...reasons? It's religious, and very odd to me. I think her beliefs are stupid, but will honor them as much as it pains me to consider the waste of potentially life-saving organs getting pumped full of chemicals and buried in the ground where they will help no one.
Being slightly morbid the talk of dying doesn't bother me, but the thoughts of all the things that might go wrong with surgery on a major organ does bother me mightily. Having some minor insomnia, just trouble falling asleep, racing thoughts, that sort of thing. Entirely anxiety driven. Knowing that your life will be in someone else's (very capable) hands is...anxiety-inducing. So I try to visualize the surgery going perfectly, no bleeding, gallbladder being fine, closing up and all the wounds healing seamlessly and being out of that hospital next day. But also packing a bag with multiple changes of undies and soft comfy clothes (not knowing if i'll even be able to wear my own clothes!)
So yeah, I'm apprehensive. Again. Of another surgery. And more recovery. But fingers crossed and ~ma welcomed and here we go again!